


When Angels Fall

by LadyRhi



Series: When Angels Fall [1]
Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Absolution, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Free Will or Fate?, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Introspection, Kylo Ren Redemption, Love, Making Peace With Ourselves, Memories, POV Ben Solo, Peace & Purpose, Plot Twists, Reylo - Freeform, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Surprise Character Appearance - Freeform, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhi/pseuds/LadyRhi
Summary: Rey killed Kylo Ren, plunging his own lightsaber into him and ending his reign of terror once and for all...and then she saved what the monster left behind.Left alone on the corroded husk of the Death Star, Ben Solo relives the moments that had led him to this point. Everything that had happened over the course of the past year had upended the very foundations of his existence and every seismic shift could be be traced back to a surprise meeting on a forest planet when a spark of Light ignited something inside of him he'd long since given up on.So, was this to be the end of a story he'd been so certain was destined for greater things? Did he deserve to revive the one dream he'd allowed himself to keep alive in his heart?What become of angels when they fall?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Series: When Angels Fall [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763125
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	1. I Walked the Path That Led Me to the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Please take note of the tags before diving in! Rated M, as there are articulated thoughts of suicide towards the very end of this first chapter, so please either give this fic a miss if this bothers you or skip the section that begins after, "He could only wonder at it, the extraordinary compassion that had given her the will to forgive him." For the lead-in to the second half of the story, skip to the very last line.
> 
>  **A/N** : Sharp-eyed readers may recognize the titles of both the work and the two parts this story as lyrics from Breaking Benjamin's ["Angels Fall."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVl5MtdodLU) I'd heard the song randomly while writing this and it struck me how perfect a fit it was ~ thank you, YT playlist gods!
> 
> This is my first posted attempt at a fan fic and was really just begun as a distraction to cure writer's block hindering my progress on a much larger work I hope will one day join this one here on AO3. 
> 
> Enjoy & may the Force be with you! ♥

The rain beat a relentless refrain, roaring with discontent as it thundered down on the corroded metal rising from the waves below. Titanic struts and durasteel plating towered above, clawing at the lightning-torn skies, looming across the horizon like the grieving sentinels set to watch over the bones of destiny's victims.

A graveyard for dreams.

An emperor's dreams of galactic dominion. Dreams of unparalleled power. Of an ancient foe cast down at long last.

A young man's dreams of saving his small piece of the galaxy. Dreams of a purpose greater than himself, like his father before him. Of a family reunited.

A reluctant warlord's dreams. Of conquering his past, of rising above the legends of his parents, of claiming a legacy that had only ever been squandered.

His dreams. Old dreams that had once died the slow death of loneliness and heartbreak. Old dreams revived when he'd met _her_.

Dreams of balance and peace, an end to the war within. Of connection and acceptance. A home to belong to. Of love.

The path to all of those things had once seemed so clear, so inevitable, as though pre-ordained. He'd fought for them, tearing the galaxy apart in his search, slaughtering those who'd stood in his way. He'd refused to accept that Rey's repudiation, made in a throne room set ablaze by their shared passion and fury, was the end of it. That it was all he was to be left with.

Yet, here he stood amidst another ruin, a tribute to vaulting ambition, shattered and left to rust and eventually wash away to nothingness. Around him rose the final testament of so many failures. And now, too, his own.

Once more, they had stood so close. Once more, Kylo had dared to bare his feelings to her, reveal his vulnerability, his weakness. He'd offered her everything he had to give. And once more, she'd refused it all. Rey's eyes had filled with disappointment and anger. With rejection. He'd felt the old pain -- that oh so familiar pain -- shatter the fragile hope he'd allowed to grow deep in his soul. Then the blinding fury, hurt-fueled words that he could never seem to keep hidden away inside, and the screaming clash of plasma as blue lightsaber and red crossed blades.

Their battle had raged from the dripping wreck of the throne room to the very end of this massive strut until, finally, she'd fallen to her knees. The power of his blows had forced her down, unleashed by a body free of fresh wounds and exhaustion, a mind clear of the weight of recent patricide. Kylo had won. For the first time, he'd stood over her in victory. There had been no satisfaction, however. No swell of pride in his own prowess or elation over revenging himself on an opponent who'd once stood over him, roles reversed.

Looking down at her shivering form, her words of stubborn denial echoing through his mind, Kylo had felt his lip curl into a sneer. She'd been swathed in flowing white, pristine and pure, chaste and devout. The little would-be Jedi. And there at the nape of her neck, he'd seen with outrage, lay the traditional hood of an extinct planet's culture long lost to history. Every warning he'd given to Rey, every entreaty to let it all go, to let the past die, and there she'd been, bedecked in it from head to toe. She'd even put her hair back up in a parody of those childish buns, for fuck's sake.

His sneer had twisted into a snarl and rage scorched through his veins, shooting molten fury along his arms. Kylo had raised them, intent on ending this. His past, his pain, and every memory of a hope left dashed on the forsaken shore of his soul.

He'd kill it. Kill her. He had to.

_**Ben.** _

A voice he hadn't heard in years reached out to him through the light-years of the starlit systems between them. Kylo had silenced the echo of it time and again, smothering it as though it would steal the breath from the woman it belonged to, end the torment that the place she held in his heart caused. No matter the endless hours spent in meditation, no matter the ruthless training or the blood that soaked into the leather of his gloves, he was too weak to do it. Despite the cruel "lessons" at his Master's hands, he'd never managed to cut her away.

_**Ben.** _

Softer. Infinitely gentle, as though speaking to a baby cradled in her embrace.

Kylo had turned, seeking the source of the voice with his mind in spite of himself. The woman who'd, indeed, once held him in her arms.

Connection. His breath had hitched at the sudden sensation of a familiar Force signature brushing impossibly against his own. One he knew. Remembered. And through it had come an incandescent love that filled him with its extraordinary strength. The wonder of it after so much time and heartache had loosened his grip on his lightsaber, the weapon falling away without a thought.

He'd started to reach out to his mother, to return that longed-for touch which had been denied, avoided, or renounced, by turns for so many years.

_***PAIN*** _

A sudden impact had thrown Kylo off-balance and his head turned back to see what had hit him hard enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

He'd looked down in disbelief at his own lightsaber. The unstable red blade had bitten deep into his stomach, the hilt wielded in Rey's unyielding grasp. His eyes had traveled up the tensed muscles of her sun-speckled arm to her face, meeting that steely gaze as the moment stretched beyond a measure so mundane as time. There was triumph and the fury of an avenging angel, there. _So strong_. Kylo could see her breaths shudder as the aftershocks of their fight ripped in and out through her grimacing lips.

 _So soft_ , he'd thought, even then. The death blow had been delivered by her hand and he could only stand there, staring at her mouth. Kylo had wanted to touch the smooth skin and trace the graceful curves with his fingertips, gloves torn off and cast aside. For her. Only ever for her. Her lips had been made to curve upwards in a smile and, he'd once hoped, to ease gently into a kiss.

Instead, they'd parted in a gasp as time had reclaimed its mastery and a monumental concussion within the Force had rocked them both to their cores.

Where he had always known Light to shine from a warm, enduring wellspring of unconquerable will, there was now the cold silence of the void. The place in the galaxy that the rebel princess had filled with her radiance grew dark as not even a flicker was left behind to mark her place.

"Leia."

Rey's voice was strained with horror and unexpected loss, but he barely heard her. Nor did he feel the spitting blade retract. Kylo was drowning, there amidst the storm-lashed ruins of a thousand dead dreams. Had he cast himself into the icy waters below he'd not have known the difference.

Unexpectedly bereft, spent, and feeling the looming edge of the fate the wound through his middle had consigned him to, Kylo had let go.

Instead of wrathful waters, he'd found himself on the cold metal of the strut, but the hard jolt of his landing was peripheral. Even the agony of the cauterized hole in his gut was nothing beside the still-burning gash ripped into his spirit.

His mother was gone.

Half-collapsed on the raised side of a piece of his own family's legacy, he'd struggled to breathe. Kylo had never been good at burying his emotions and finally, fatally torn apart at last, he didn't care to try.

For once, however, the impulse to lose himself in the intense storm within was given pause. A small, warm presence had appeared at his side, surprising him enough to stay any gasps of grief. She'd been soaked through and shivering, a rather pathetic heap of humanity kneeling beside her bested foe. As Kylo had turned to regard her he'd seen that the look of victory had fallen away. Though Rey's shoulders hunched beneath the weight of it all, a near-luminous determination radiated from her as she reached across his prone body, resting her palm over the last expression of her anger for him.

Kylo had not thought to ask what she'd intended nor had he found it in himself to shove her touch away. For all the bluster and spite that had passed between them, he treasured the touch he'd once felt in the silence of the Bond and craved ever since. They'd sat there, her warm hand grounding him in his final moments as she'd bowed her head, as if in prayer. _Not that I deserve it._

Then the warmth of her hand had begun to spread outwards from her palm. It coursed through Kylo's battered body, tracing pathways of Light across scars both old and new, mapping the constellations of his sins. He'd felt it draw a soothing touch over his shoulders, down his arms, and along the planes of his back. A deep crater in his side filled and faded. Pitted slashes, like lash-marks from a fight amidst a snowy forest smoothed away. It had reached for hurts long-healed, but never forgotten, even as he'd sensed its attention turn to the cavity burnt through his center. Muscle stretched and tissue mended as traumatized organs deep within slowly regained their natural rhythms. Kylo had barely dared to breathe, though his lungs finally filled without complaint.

And, almost as an afterthought -- or perhaps she'd deliberately reserved it for last -- he'd felt that phantom touch drift back up to his face. It moved along his brow and cheek, down along the slope of his neck to his chest, following the path of her mark, branded into Kylo's flesh a lifetime ago. It had lingered briefly, a caress of absolution, before fading away.

He'd gasped as Rey's hand lifted from him. Breath came, blood flowed, and the frozen vise of shock released its hold as he'd felt his body quiver with disbelief, whole and hale once more.

In awe, he'd turned his head to stare into her down-turned face, silently asking a question. Demanding an answer.

Her star-dusted hazel eyes had flickered up to meet his and in them he'd seen infinite sorrow. Tears brimmed over her lashes, falling in heartbreak for her mentor, an almost-mother she'd admired. Knowing the boundless capacity for compassion in her, Kylo had thought that perhaps her tears fell also for her friends, separated and fighting on, ignorant of the loss they shared. She wept, too, for the galaxy, which had risen up not once but twice to answer the call of a formidable general who would not bow to oppression.

And yes, he'd seen it. She'd let a few tears fall for him, as well. The son who'd killed his own father, who'd just lost his mother and mourned them both. The boy who'd become so desperately lost, separated from those who'd loved him most, only to find some sliver of what it meant to come back only as he'd lost it all. Grasping for what was no longer there.

"I _did_ want to take your hand."

Her quiet admission had barely been loud enough to be heard over the roaring waves crashing around them, but they'd been enough to pull him from his musings.

They'd been enough to spark a lingering echo of anger at the reminder of that painful day a year ago. The maelstrom of emotions rose once more, choking him as he'd heard her reveal the feelings that could have spared them from this moment, this tragedy. Kylo had glowered up at her with clenched teeth, daring her to continue, to twist the blade further. Still holding his wild gaze unflinchingly, she met his silent challenge in that soft, sad voice.

"Ben's hand."

With those words, the hateful anger had sheathed its claws and crawled back into the depths of the Dark. The sound of his name shaped by Rey's lips was as hypnotic as the first time she'd uttered it in a turbolift bound for an unknown doom. Already gasping for breath, he'd found himself suddenly stripped of his chaos. He reeled from its abrupt absence, though this loss was no cause for grief. No tears would be shed for it or for what finally fell away in the actualization of what had seemed a star-crossed wish, secretly shared across space and time.

Kylo Ren had fallen. And died.

Something buried deep inside the hollow shell of the monster's remains had stirred, at long last. Newly freed from its chains, it responded to her calm with acceptance. The hard gaze of the dark knight had softened with the wounded, weary understanding of his life-scourged predecessor, called back from his remorseful retreat to take up his life once more.

She'd sat there for only a heartbeat, looking into the newly revealed spark of Light he'd only ever allowed hints of to shine through. There was no smile on her lips and her hand did not reach out for him again. She'd simply gazed at who she'd known to be hiding behind the mask all along with all her grief and forgiveness and hope.

Then, Rey had stood and left him behind.

***

Ben looked out over the violent writhing of the waves crashing towards the distant shore, unseeing. Though the water lashed itself over the ledge of the strut, drenching his already soaked clothing and plastering his hair against the sides of his head, none of Kef Bir's miseries registered.

He felt utterly defeated, though not by Rey. She'd risen from the vulnerable collapse he'd pummeled her down into, claimed his own weapon and struck him down with it, but she had not been the architect of his destruction.

Ben Solo had defeated himself.

He'd given up. Years ago, a lost boy who'd grown tired of waiting for the love and sense of peace that a cold voice whispered would never be his had loosed his desperate grasp on the very thing for which he'd been named: hope. He'd donned a mask, given himself over to the teachings of a new Master, and willingly stepped off the edge.

He'd fallen.

It hadn't ended then, though. The descent was eternal. The power of the Dark Side seemed limitless and the more he'd learned, the stronger he'd become. The more ardently he'd embraced that which would never return devotion even as it demanded his. As Kylo, he had waged a spiteful war against the Light, carving a path of blood and fury across the galaxy, tipping the balance along the jagged edge of his lightsaber. He'd willed himself to become indifferent to the slaughter of those who stood in his way, whether they were marked for death by his Master or innocents caught up in the chaos. Their suffering stoked the fires of his power and tempered the Dark of which he'd been forged anew.

Until a small spark of Light had stood before him, trembling in fear, but with a will to survive that could never be conquered. It had drawn him towards her with a strange inevitability. He'd been helpless to deny the call of her power, once awakened.

Kylo had cursed that day in the forest of Takodana many times in the year and more since, had sworn to put an end to her and everything she represented. He'd vowed to avenge all that she'd done to shake the once-solid foundation on which he'd rebuilt his existence.

But he'd failed.

He'd told himself his failure was due to her growing strength, a power in the Force that matched his own, Light risen to meet the Dark. Destiny had designed her to be his equal, his mirror, and therefore Kylo's greatest challenge. Naturally, she would not be bested easily. He'd repeated this lie over and over until he'd told himself he believed it.

But then the voice of malice and disdain had reached out from the Unknown Regions and he'd cast all his plans for 'the Scavenger' and her Resistance friends aside.

The revelation of who Rey truly was had been the catalyst for a renewed vision of the future -- for them both. It had awoken latent dreams and resuscitated repressed desires that he'd shoved away deep into an unacknowledged corner of his heart.

It had been the excuse Kylo had been looking for.

The truth was that the Supreme Leader of the First Order, Master of the Knights of Ren, the Jedi Killer, Son of Darkness and Heir apparent to Lord Vader, couldn't let go of the one soul-deep need that had charted the course of his entire life. Despite his quest for power, the hunger to prove his worth to indifferent Masters, and the thirst for revenge, there had only ever been one thing he'd have given it all up for, though he'd never have admitted it.

He'd wanted to be accepted by someone who saw beyond the burdens of legacy and the weight of family names. To see _him_ and love him for what they found.

Palpatine, through Snoke, had torn that away from him once, beggaring his childhood of happiness and driving him to destroy its remnants. His Master had sought to emotionally castrate his apprentice, leaving him a monstrous husk incapable of connection and the compassion it can inspire. A road back to the Light.

Then he'd found her. Perfectly named and bearing scars of her own that made it possible for her to see past the mask of the Dark scion who'd set about tearing the life she'd known apart. Then, Rey had looked at him from across the stars … and reached for him. She'd delivered herself into enemy hands for the one she called "Ben," to stand at his side, choosing to face the future together.

For his part, Kylo'd had unexpected compassion for her in that interrogation chamber on Starkiller Base. He'd felt longing for something he'd refused to name as the Force had connected them for brief moments that slowly changed everything. Her touch had taken his breath away, bringing tears to his eyes at such pure acceptance and the promise of what they could have if only they sought it out. The sound of his true name, the promise that she'd help him, even has he took her in binders to bow before Snoke, had caused his heart to race.

But Kylo hadn't loved her. He hadn't known how and he couldn't quite bring himself to trust what her words and eyes seemed to be offering. He'd felt the scourge of betrayal too many times.

He'd found it in himself to believe in her strength, though, and the guiding hand of the Force that had connected them. Then, when she'd stood to meet him at the feet of his slain Master, raising his grandfather's lightsaber not to strike out at Kylo, but to fight at his side, he'd felt hope catch fire in his soul for the first time in years.

That hope had been dashed all too quickly, however, and Kylo Ren raged with the agony of another scar carved into his maimed heart. Frustration over his foolishness to trust and his inability to let go of that cursed _need_ to be wanted tore him apart again. _Such weakness._ It was as though something inside him snapped and then he'd unleashed his ships, his troops, and every weapon of pain and punishment he had at his command.

And he'd been left with nothing, once more.

Skywalker's final gambit had held Kylo back just long enough. Through the massive door he'd strode, blown open wide by the siege cannon, and into an empty cavern. He'd ordered his Stormtroopers to search the old base, tear it apart and find the trail of the Resistance he'd allowed to slip through his fingers. Hoping they'd catch even one defiant rebel Kylo could vent his rage upon, though knowing they wouldn't, he'd wandered into the wrecked command center. Signaling for Hux to remain outside and sensing the hatred burning in his general's mind, he'd known the threats behind were as dangerous as the ones before him.

They must have left something behind in their haste to escape, Kylo had reasoned -- a dropped datapad, a snippet of code left undeleted on a console screen, or even a hapless droid forgotten in their rushed exodus. If a telling clue lingered in that room, however, he'd not found it. He hadn't even looked. Barely three steps into the dusty room, he'd stopped. A glint of gold had drawn his eyes to the floor beside his boot and any intention to unearth Resistance secrets evaporated.

He'd bent down and scooped the glittering object into his palm, the gleaming gold shining against the black leather of his glove. They were battered, the chain fusing the dice together showing here and there where it had been mended over the years. The sabacc symbols that had once gifted a ne'er-do-well escaping a corrupt planet with luck glinted as their etched corners caught the light.

Once, they'd been a gift between lovers and a charm against consequences for foolhardy ventures. Then they'd found their rightful home displayed above the pilot's seat in the cockpit of the most infamous ship in the galaxy. They'd been brought down occasionally to be shown off as stories were told of the adventures they'd been through, each more far-fetched than the last.

And sometimes, tiny fingers would reach to pull a father's fortune down to play with. To admire, to dream over, and to hope they might favor a little boy caught in his family's shadow.

Memories had flooded Kylo's mind as he held them in his large hand, now full-grown, his throat tightening and eyes filling with grief in a stolen moment.

Suddenly, it had been as though every molecule of air in the room stilled and the sounds of his troops outside cut off, leaving him in a pregnant silence he'd come to recognize. Where before he'd anticipated these interludes with a guarded eagerness, in this moment he could only feel the twisting of his gut around the leaded weight of too long and painful a day.

Looking up, he'd seen her, standing as though in the room with him. No words had been uttered, no gestures made, and neither had sought to ease a step closer to the other as they had before, unwilling to yield. It had been the most eloquent silence he'd ever endured.

Kylo could only look up at Rey with pleading eyes, his soul bleeding through the cracks of his regret. She'd refused to accept what he wordlessly begged for.

With a jerky movement, she'd closed the ramp of the _Millennium Falcon,_ the connection of the Bond, and her heart. Left on his knees in the ashes of all that could have been, Kylo had felt the slight weight resting in his palm disappear. Bowing his head over his empty hand, he'd realized what he'd just lost.

He'd learned how to love, after all.

***

A crack of thunder resounded threateningly above, causing the metal ruins beneath Ben's feet to quake with a ponderous tremor and shaking him from his reverie. His drenched clothes hung heavily on his body and he knew he should find shelter. He'd wind up shaking with life-sapping chills if he didn't, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

_What does it matter, now?_

He felt water trickling down the sides of his face, one drop tracing the path of the scar that was now gone. Its warmth hinted at a different source than the sky above or the sea below. It brought his thoughts back to the woman who'd made that mark. Not an unusual progression for the man who'd hounded her steps relentlessly ever since.

Ben could sense her, still. The Bond stretched uncomfortably with distance as it did whenever they were parted. Rey's walls were drawn up and locked securely against intrusion, leaving him no way to discern her intentions now that everything she believed had been shaken, once more.

She'd struck him down, her righteous fury burning with glorious Light … and extraordinary Dark power. Perhaps the Jedi Masters of old would have frowned upon her methods, but he couldn't help but see the rightness of it. Whatever Darkness lived in Rey's heart, she'd never given in to it, as Ben had. Good had conquered evil, the Light had cast down the Dark, and the galaxy was free from the tyranny of Kylo Ren. It was neat and tidy, like the ending to a bedtime story right before, "…and they lived happily ever after."

But there were no happy endings, not really.

The Supreme Leader was gone, defeated by the Light's chosen champion. But that wasn't the end of it. A Darkness greater than anything he'd ever been capable of lurked among the uncharted reaches of space, biding its time, building its strength, and preparing to release a plague of evil more virulent and relentless than ever before. No, the noble Jedi had saved no one.

And she hadn't killed him, in the end. She'd looked down at him, at the collapsed body that had been honed through years of training and in countless battles to be an instrument of death. She'd seen the failing lifeforce of the man she'd fought so long against, the gaping wound meant to finish him for all their sakes. And then she'd saved him for his own.

 _For_ _**my**_ _sake,_ he thought. _Not Kylo's._

It was for Ben Solo and the mother Rey in some ways shared with him, who'd given her life for her son's return. That was why she'd laid her hand upon him and taken back not just his pain, but her judgment, her anger, and the fear that had given strength to her blow.

He could only wonder at it, the extraordinary compassion that had given her the will to forgive him.

_But should she have?_

Looking down at the slab of metal he'd collapsed against when he'd fallen, Ben considered whether he should have just remained there. He could have let the rain pour down upon him, shivered as fever burned into his skin and his breathing strained. Finally, he could have let go, perhaps shifted towards the edge of the strut but an arm's-length beyond, and allowed the sea of Kef Bir to bury him as it had the remnants of the evil monstrosity cradling him. He still could.

Or there was another way. Rey had dropped his lightsaber as he'd gone down and it had landed right next to his boot. He'd leaned forward to grab it when he'd stood and it rested loosely in his hand. Feeling its heft and the power of his tortured crystal radiating from within, Ben sensed the Force rise up around him. It was waiting for him to act, to make his decision. Perhaps the Force had sought to spare its scion of the Light her sin and left it to him to do what must be done. To finally do what was right.

Let one fall so the other might rise.

Ben clenched his hand around the heavy hilt, choice made. He felt the power around him coalesce, as if in answer. Bowing his head in acceptance, he looked out once more at the end of all those miscarried dreams and then closed his eyes. His thumb slid slowly towards the ignition.

"Hey, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Rey dashing off to Ahch-To, wrecking her "it's complicated" boyfriend's souped-up ride, having a heart-to-heart with glowstick-Luke, and then finally heading off to Exegol, I'd realized Ben was standing in the rain a LONG time. 
> 
> What went through his head as he stood there? That's what I tried to come up with, here. It can be wonderful when a character is naturally reticent, and Kylo/Ben's expressiveness in the films made it work gloriously. However, withholding the inner thoughts of such a fascinating character naturally leads us to torture ourselves with trying to figure them out long after the movie ends. Hopefully, I did Ben Solo some justice with my version.
> 
> And if it seems kind of rambly, cut the poor guy some slack. He's been through a lot today.
> 
>  **Head's Up** : There's a PLOT TWIST coming up in the second half of this story. As wonderful as this scene was, and as much as it hurt to change anything about Ben's reunion with his father, there was something absolutely vital to the story that the film lacked. True, it just wasn't possible for it to be included, but I wanted it too much to heed the realities of it all.


	2. And I Will Never Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The sun begins to rise  
> And wash away the sky  
> The turning of the tide  
> Don't leave it all behind  
> And I will never say goodbye..."
> 
> From "Angels Fall" by Breaking Benjamin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Let me tell you, this second part was a struggle to write. Where it was relatively easy to just follow along with Ben's inner monologue in the first part, it was a challenge balancing that silent voice against the unexpected chaos that adding dialogue presented. Yikes! 
> 
> This fought me, tooth and nail. I wound up with a pile of unconnected bits of conversation, mental musings, and notes on things that I wanted to be sure to include, which I then had to find a way to string together. _And then,_ to add to the fun, I wound up writing the ending first, meaning I essentially had to write my way backwards through the chapter in order to find the beginning. It was kind of like doing a discovery writing exercise while simultaneously playing a game of 52-Card Pick-Up … only with way more than 52 cards! 
> 
> Sitting here, finally done, I can only say one thing: _**worth it.**_
> 
> I hope you enjoy this alternate scene and recommend that you read the ending notes for BTS tidbits as well as a little surprise I have in store.

When the Bond between Ben and Rey opened, it was always as though all sound would be sucked from the air around them. Not silence, per se, but more an uncanny absence of noise. As though the Force gave greater precedence to what occurred within the discrete bubble of space and time it created for them than anything going on in what lay beyond. The pounding of the rain and roar of the waves crashing into the metal of the shattered space station he stood on receded from his awareness, but as a result of the shocked disbelief that rocked him rather than the parting of the veils of reality. While the Force indeed had a hand in this, it was a different kind of bond it exerted its influence to open this time.

That voice he'd long sought to drive from his head pulled him around as though by the mandate of a Force-call, turning him unerringly towards the anchor that had once held him steady amidst the storm of his life that had eventually proved too strong for either of them to withstand. A tempest even the shrieking winds of Kef Bir couldn't match.

Ben's eyes dragged over features he remembered with painful clarity. Unchanged, unlined, as though the haunted years since he'd been dumped into his uncle's care had been but a passing nightmare. His troubled gaze rose from the hem of the white robe all the way up to the braid-woven crown and bitterness clenched his core in an unforgiving grip.

His mother.

His heart wrenched to his dismay, as Ben saw that not only was she the young, beautiful woman he recalled, as though she'd stepped right out of his memories, she was also eerily indistinct. It was unlike the torturous interludes that came in the unguarded moments between sleep and awakening when other shades would appear.

Ben shoved the thought away, irritation and confusion simmering inside him until realization dawned. He doubted at first, but looking at the evidence the Force was all but shouting at him to recognize he guessed what she had become. He saw that her slight, translucent form was embraced by the celestial glow of the Cosmic Force. Though he'd felt the agony of her death as she'd passed, seeing her like this and having the confirmation of his loss tore at him. Ben tried to fight it, still reeling from the imbalance of his moment of intended self-destruction and angry at the thought of baring it before her.

She simply watched him, waiting. He had an idea what she expected from him and feared what it would mean he'd have to face.

In a bid to buy himself some time to get his footing, Ben distracted himself with the fact that she was here like this at all. He knew Luke had begun his twin's training in the Jedi ways, but also that she'd left that path behind in the weeks before his own birth. She'd never explained why and his uncle hadn't deigned to enlighten his nephew on the subject, but he did know that she hadn't gotten far in her development within the Force. Yet here she was, her spirit manifesting in a demonstration of power he'd only ever heard of being achieved by long-dead Jedi Masters.

As he'd picked away at the puzzle, stalling, she'd remained waiting patiently. _Well, well. That's new._ He'd never have described Leia Organa, rebel princess and Huttslayer, as 'patient' before.

He eagerly grasped onto the irreverent thought and used it to reestablish his equilibrium. It was familiar, a learned response that had been his fallback whenever unhappiness gripped him as he'd watched her busy herself with the affairs of the galaxy, leaving her son behind in her perfumed wake.

Opening his mouth, Ben prepared to deliver a snide comment, rebuke her for the degrading epithet she'd used to draw his attention away from the weight of the lightsaber in his hand and what he'd intended to do with it. After all she'd done to him, she didn't have the right to endearments.

And it was just that, the overwhelming mass of grievance laying between them, which caused his mouth to close, reproach unspoken. Too many years. Too many years and too much pain had cut a chasm between them. They stood not an arms span apart and yet he could not bridge the space separating them, even with contempt. He could only return her stare.

"Even now, when this is all that's left?" Her sad question brought his gaze back up to her face, her eyes. Caught in the dark, evocative depths that she'd passed on to him, Ben stood passive as she managed what he could not. She found the strength to reforge a connection that breached the dead air between them. Her achingly familiar Force signature brushed against his own, seeking to be allowed in and he couldn't find the will to hold his barriers up against her any longer. As his senses hummed with his mother's power he could almost hear something within his soul break away, unable to endure in her presence.

She was right. She was nothing more than a memory, even such as she was now. The focus of his anger was gone from this life forever. It knocked him off-balance, realizing with a sudden jolt that tore through him that all those who his heart had spent so long bleeding over were gone. Who did you curse for your scars when all that was left were the ghosts?

Ben looked around, half expecting to see another face, one that his memories often placed next to his mother's, if only out of wishful thinking.

"He's not here," she said quietly in that vibrant voice of hers, feeling the shape of what he looked for in his mind.

Disappointment dragged his shoulders down before he caught himself, straightening again quickly. With her incredible appearance as a Force Spirit challenging his understanding of where the line of what was possible lay, Ben had wondered if the power that had allowed her to reach through the layers of existence might bring forth another. Someone he knew she, too, longed to see.

"This isn't what you think it is," she explained, reading his flustered confusion. "I'm no Yoda or Obi Wan Kenobi to bend the Force to my will indefinitely." Her face filled with a sorrowful longing that he felt tug at something inside him. "But once, just for this. Not even the Force could keep me from this chance to see my son one last time."

Her words gripped him, that something peeking out from deep in his heart begging to respond. He held his breath, not knowing how to answer her silent plea, but wanting to with every fiber of his being.

Then the spell broke. She stepped closer and reached her hand up towards his face. Ben brought his chin up in sharp refusal. No distinct thought had passed through his mind, but reflex took control, cutting her off cold. Muscle memory, learned and assiduously practiced over the course of a lifetime.

She withdrew her hand, hurt, but didn't step away and stood quietly again. Waiting.

Frustration bloomed in Ben's chest, pulling an exasperated huff from him. Unready and unwilling to touch that particular scar yet, he fixed her with an aloof gaze that fell just short of a glare.

"What is this, then?" He barked at her, but was horrified to hear his voice break on the last word. Ben fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest, cringing inside that his impulse was to fall into the defensive. He growled to himself, teeth grinding. He didn't want to allow her to get the better of him, to claim the emotional high ground, but the day had just been too fraught with tension and reckless turmoil.

She seemed to accept his reticence for the time being, though he sensed a determination that promised she would not be so amenable for long. Now, though, she merely made the point of holding his gaze.

"I don't have long," she said, rubbing the fingertips of one phantom hand against the palm of the other, as though feeling for herself just how transient this was. "I don't have the training to stay here."

Ben fought to keep his face indifferent, but his spirit wavered at her words. Looking closer, he noted that though she appeared exactly as texts he'd read during his time at his uncle's training temple described a Force Spirit, the otherworldly glow around her flickered uncertainly. He sensed a struggle in her to remain like this, here with him. It took a monumental force of willpower, but then, who would be capable of bringing such tenacity to bear but Leia Organa?

"What will become of you?" He asked with genuine curiosity, though he debated whether he really wanted to know. It might be better for her to just disappear and leave him to the end his path in life had led him to.

"I'm not sure," she answered, and he thought there might be a slight tremor in her voice. She was scared of the way she'd chosen, he could sense when he reached out to nudge subtly at her mind, but she'd never considered any alternative and her resolve rang clear in her voice as she continued. "The destination doesn't really matter, I suppose. Wherever it is, I'll be happy knowing it's where your father waits for me."

Ben felt his eyes widen, unsure how she could know, but convinced by the unwavering certainty in her face. She was at peace with where she was bound, he realized. It was the matter left unresolved, the wound still bleeding, that she'd remained behind for.

She'd stayed for him.

Still unable to face it himself, Ben sought to postpone what they both needed so desperately and what would have to be said to bring it about. There weren't many topics to converse with his mother over, and all of them were painful. With no safe options, but intent on side-stepping the most significant, he blurted out the first to come to mind.

"I see him. I've seen his face every day since I--," he paused, swallowing with difficulty. She waited quietly for him to find the courage to say it and when he did the words were hoarse, as though he'd hidden them away, never acknowledged the full truth out loud until now. "I've seen Dad's face every day since I killed him."

"You carry your father with you."

He nodded in confirmation, recalling that Luke had also forced Ben to acknowledge it when they'd faced one another on Crait. His uncle's was another face that came to him, preyed on his sanity, but only in dreams when a green blade hummed above his head in lethal judgment.

Han, however, trailed him wherever he went.

"He did it because he loved you, Ben," she said in a grief-swollen voice, knowing exactly what tore at him. "He was ready to give anything for you. There was nothing he wanted more than to set you free, if he could."

"I didn't want him to!" His shout rebounded off the metal surfaces surrounding them. Emotion crashed through him, the image of a red blade piercing his father's chest filled his mind, his own finger on the ignition. He'd gasped in what he'd thought at first was relief, his final act of fealty to dedicate himself to the Dark Side and fulfill his destiny. But then he'd heard the young woman's scream from above, the primal roar from across the bridge, and the cries found their echo inside his soul before it all came falling down. What should have been the crowning achievement of his training rent him apart, piece by piece.

It had been the beginning of the end for him. Ben had thought that perhaps there was some hope of salvation when the Force brought the unfathomable and beguiling nobody from Jakku into his life, allowing them to learn each other for a brief time. That proved an aberration, however, as had all such misbegotten snatches of something more that had tempted him to care. What followed had been a series of soulless, discordant stretches of existence that he'd barely convinced himself made for a life worth living. The murder of his father had destroyed any chance of a future for Kylo Ren, however, and the natural order of events abandoned what was left of him on a miserable moon that served only as the forgotten monument to a past he'd once begged to be allowed to let go of.

What a waste of life he'd proven to be. He'd torn his family apart with fear, found wanting by both his masters, and what should have been a cause for joy -- the awakening of his powers -- had only led to a fall into the depths of the Dark Side. So corrupt and destructive his presence in the galaxy had been that the Force had deemed it necessary to bring forth another to correct his failings. And when they'd met, Dark grasping at the Light with unkind fingers as it always did, he'd only blighted her life with his desire to be a part of it. He'd never be able to make amends for it all, but he'd thought himself capable of leveling the scales somewhat.

It seemed he failed even in that regard.

His mother's mind, connected now to his own, had followed the miserable descent of his thoughts and her sudden outburst dragged him from them as though she'd slapped him.

"Your death for her life? What kind of balance does _that_ bring?" She said it with an exasperated sarcasm that grated on his nerves, drawing him fully back to the present. She'd used that tone on his father when he'd pulled one of his harebrained stunts or said something that made her roll her eyes. He didn't appreciate the correlation.

"She draws breath because I exist," Ben spat. His words fell from his mouth faster than guilt or censure could stop them. "'Darkness rises and Light to meet it,' no? I'd not left _adolescence_ before the Force deemed me too corrupt to let stand unchecked. How fitting that my end will tip the balance in the Light's favor. Perhaps that will finally be enough to end Palpatine!"

They'd inherited their parents' and grandparents' war, Ben and Rey. The battles they fought weren't the discord of their own generation, but a continuation of what had come before. It was unjust that they should carry those old hatreds, but he knew better than anyone what it was to bear the pressure of legacy. Thinking of how the two of them had been placed on opposite sides of this war, like pieces on a dejarik board, the heat fueling his tirade cooled.

"It will free her of the shadow of my existence so she can shine as she's meant to." He sighed with defeat, the storm ebbing away, leaving him staggering under the weight of his exhaustion. He closed his eyes in defeat, forbidding the tears to dare to form.

"A fair exchange," Ben muttered, believing it.

"And waste the gift she's given you?" She stepped even closer to him and he opened his eyes to look down at her, close enough to touch if it had been possible. Her gaze held an entreaty, but also a hint of quiet rage that arrested his attention. "Do you honestly think Rey gave you back your life only so you could throw it away, now? _I_ certainly didn't give you the last that I had to give to see you die like this."

Where his mother's gentle utterances failed to have an effect, her anger managed to touch him. At last, a crack in the mask. Leia had been famous for her temper, once. Ben remembered how she'd burst out with heat when Han had pushed too far, said the wrong thing. As time went on, though, she'd become more collected, controlled. A proper politician. She'd held her more passionate feelings back, hiding them away where they couldn't be seen. Between her husband and her son, she'd reasoned that someone had to be the level-headed one, but it had only served to push them further away. To him, he'd felt she'd closed off yet another part of herself from her son.

Seeing Ben was truly listening, she pressed on fiercely. "And are you really arrogant enough to claim that the only reason Rey was born is because of you?" Her tone hinted at exactly what she thought of that conceit and his eyes shifted away in discomfort, but were immediately drawn back to her demanding face. He couldn't help it as his shoulders hunched slightly. Her look told him he was in for a proper telling-off.

"Prophesized soulmates, the first couple of the Force, destiny's chosen ones…," she recited the litany of everything he'd told himself that he and Rey were to one another in a sing-song voice perfectly calibrated to set his teeth on edge. She even had the audacity to wiggle her fingers in front of his nose in an insulting parody of a Force-invoking gesture.

_That's too fucking far!_

"We are two souls bound together as one, a Dyad brought into being to bring balance to the Force," he rebutted in the same tone he'd once used to scold Rey for refusing to let go of the past. His brow lowered in a way that made seasoned Stormtroopers tremble in their boots and drew himself up to his full stature, every inch the Supreme Leader. The lightsaber caught fast in his grip was a blatant testament to what he'd done to those who'd crossed him in the past.

He should have known better than to try that on his mother.

"And you're doing a wonderful job of that, aren't you?" She enunciated each word, eyes glowing with vindication as she watched the bluster blow right out of him in embarrassment. Ben didn't even have the spine to deliver a comeback, though the oaths he vented in a private corner of his head where he hoped she couldn't hear were satisfyingly filthy.

She'd baited him and he'd fallen for it.

"Doesn't it tell you something that after how hard you pushed Rey to fit into your tidy little definition of what she should be, she's turned her back on you?"

Ben tried to be angry, but his mother's suggestion hit far too close to the mark. She was furious with him, he could see, but knowing she held the winning hand she amended her tone. There was still a fierceness to it, but conviction was the strength in her voice, now.

"Listen to me, Ben Solo. It doesn't matter whether the Force has connected you to that girl or not. Whatever excuses you've been making to convince yourself that you have the right to claim ownership of her existence, they need to end. Rey's destiny is her own and whether she chooses to share it with you or anyone else is up to her."

The idea that Rey might consider ever being with another brought Ben's hackles up, but his mother's quirked brow quelled any outburst he might have made. Instead, he pressed his lips together in frustration.

She allowed the discussion -- _lecture…_ \-- to rest for a minute. She eyed him closely, though with something softer than before as they stood there, watching the rain falling down upon him. He was momentarily distracted by the realization that the drops of water seemed to fall right through her, leaving her fresh and dry in her ghostly state. The scholarly interest that had piqued at the discovery abated as she opened her mouth to continue, though in a milder register.

"And just as she is her own, so too are you." Her hand reached out, fingers indicating the burnt hole in his tunic, the skin beneath smooth and unblemished. "Rey gave you your life back," she repeated, eyes imploring him to heed her. "It's yours to do with as you will, free of any master or dictate. If you still want to share it with her, then offer it. And if she accepts you, then perhaps _that's_ what fate, the Force, or whatever power brought you together intended all along."

She made it sound so simple, so easy. As though they were normal people with the freedom to give something as important as their hearts without the future and balance of the galaxy hinging on whether an acceptance or refusal was uttered. _When have the Skywalkers ever had the luxury of simplicity?_ He sighed at his own mental gripe. It did little good to dwell on might-have-been's. No, it wasn't as straightforward as his mother implied, but she wasn't entirely wrong, he admitted to himself.

"You're right," Ben responded solemnly, desolation seeping through the fibers of his heart. "Rey _did_ prove something to me today, to the whole galaxy. She showed that despite the Darkness in her or the legacy her bloodline traps her in, her Light can't be smothered by it. She'll never fall as I did." He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again slowly, trying to make himself let go of the last of the dreams he'd dared to hold onto, to set her free.

"I'm not worthy of standing by her side," he confessed, not caring this time that his voice broke.

"Worthy?! _Worthy_ , Ben? Doesn't turning away from the Dark Side count for something?" She frowned at him, annoyed with his fatalistic logic, but not considering what her cavalier dismissal woke in him. Her push-back brought fury into full bloom, quaking through his body. Making him explode.

"Has it ever? Tell me something, Leia _Skywalker,_ " Ben bit out savagely, drawing petty satisfaction when she flinched at the name she'd declined to use, though it was her rightful one. Any trace of the maternal superiority she'd wielded a moment ago leeched away as she felt the ground shift under her. It was his turn to force her to face an old wound she didn't want touched. "When has anyone been forgiven for straying too close to the Dark Side, for daring to step over the threshold and experience it for themselves? To know and desire its power?" He leaned forward as his temper started to get the better of him, invading her space menacingly, but managed to rein it back in with a shaky breath. Exhaustion from the volatility of the day came crashing in upon him again, and he continued more softly. "Didn't Anakin have to die, in the end?"

"Did he?" Her question caused Ben's eyes to whip up to meet hers in astonishment. She offered a small deprecating shrug. "A defining quality of those who dedicate their lives to the Light is supposed to be compassion, one of the most profound expressions of which is forgiveness. Where does that belief come from, then, if the Light itself fails to absolve those who stray from its path?" Her eyes had a far-away look, as though trying to see a time they each only knew of from stories they'd been told. "I think that was the gravest error of the Jedi. Their intolerance cost so many lives over so many years." She sighed. "And it cost Anakin his soul."

"Not entirely," he disagreed, Darkness roiling in his eyes. He bore his gaze into hers, wanting her to see it there. Here she stood before the son she'd fought so long to bring back from the cold abyss he'd been lost to. She had to acknowledge that if she really believed that her son had come back, that true redemption was possible for _him_ , then she had to concede that it had been so for her father, too. He needed her to give him this.

Ben watched her wrestle with herself, but the battle was short-lived and he was surprised when she offered a small nod.

"No," she conceded with a weary smile. "Not entirely, and not forever."

Uncomfortable with the silence that stretched between them, his lips twisted in a grimace.

"In any case, I _haven't_ turned away from the Dark Side."

He could still feel it, that icy maw yawning beneath his feet, a siren's song seductively beckoning him to follow it downwards. Part of himself was rooted to it, bound by chains he'd once constructed himself. Feeling their uncompromising hold, Ben knew he wasn't capable of breaking them. The Dark Side's claim on him was eternal, but he found himself apathetic to his condition. Though the rekindled flame soothed the flayed edges of his soul, he had spent too long in denial of it to ever feel true belonging within the Light. It was almost too much. Just as the sudden absence of the presence in his head after the death of Snoke had led to sleepless nights and relentless headaches from the resounding silence that filled him, the grudging recession of the Dark as it made way for the Light seeping back in made him feel scorched by the intrusion.

The Dark was full of terrors, but Ben had faced them down too many times to shrink from them now. There was comfort in the familiar, no matter its menace, even when the 'better alternative' was within reach. Though he'd been made to suffer for it, the Dark Side had embraced him as he'd never been by those who'd proselytized the virtues of the Light. He'd grown strong, realizing what he could accomplish beyond the strictures of an order of terrified old men. As the Dark's disciple, he'd become something great and his ascension had instigated the awakening of his equal within the Force.

Whatever the cost, however he may mourn the deeds that led him to this point, Ben would never regret that it had brought Rey into his life.

His mind reluctantly tore itself away from the comforting thought of his soul's mate and returned to the woman before him. The look in her eyes and the sensation of her Force signature continuing to brush against his own told him that she'd followed the twisted path his mind had wandered. Reaching out curiously with his mind, Ben felt that she didn't understand, not really, but it intrigued him suddenly that she was trying. She was so open, refusing to hide when she knew it mattered most.

With some consternation, he realized he wanted to accept the invitation her gaze offered, to help her see. But how?

He'd turned as she'd long hoped he would, yes, but he'd never be who he'd been before. He was Ben, again, but not _her_ Ben. He wasn't the little boy who'd dreamed of becoming a pilot just like his father or the unwilling student who'd felt a reluctant joy when he'd brought a smile of pride to his uncle's face as the pure blue blade of his lightsaber glowed in his hand for the first time. Ben Solo had returned, but he was changed. He didn’t know how the two halves of his soul fit together, but he was determined that the fear that had forced him away, sent him into the arms of Snoke in the first place, would not dictate what it would mean.

"I won't leave the Dark Side behind," he stressed, feeling the urgent need to make her understand. To accept it. Accept him. "It's part of me and everything I will ever do will be touched by it. I chose it and even were it to let go its claim on me now," he paused, his eyes burning into hers. "I wouldn't release _my_ hold on _it._ "

Her face fell at his words, but Ben continued to hold her gaze captive with every shred of intensity he possessed. He couldn't let her deny what made him who and what he was. If he'd managed to finally become worthy in her eyes, then she had to accept how it had come about. After a few strained heartbeats he saw her take a deep breath that shuddered its way out through her trembling lips.

"Well, if Vad-- if _Anakin_ never entirely let go of the Light, then perhaps it goes both ways." She shuddered, memories of desperate and fearful times playing behind her eyes. "He was guilty of acts that were truly evil. Yet, he committed them even while holding to some shred of goodness, enough to find his way back. To want to return, when it came to it. Had he survived, would the man who'd made the galaxy suffer for so many years have lived on uninfluenced by it?"

It was something, he supposed. The basic foundation of what he meant was there, but Ben knew she didn't understand the whole of it, not as he would wish. He could feel her struggle and fail to grasp the fact that Anakin's lingering Light hadn't conquered his Darkness, but that the Light _and_ Dark together within him had shifted the balance enough to reveal a part of Vader that could act out of selflessness. It set free a part of him that had loved his son more than he'd coveted his power, just as the scales had tipped within Kylo Ren for Rey.

It wasn't a matter of being 'saved.' It was a choice. A choice that could so easily be reneged upon, but made all the more profound by each successive decision to remain true.

No, his mother didn't fully comprehend it, but Ben saw the willingness to let it rest ease the tension within her. Perhaps a woman who'd never allowed her convictions to waver was incapable of understanding, he thought. It stung, but there was some solace in knowing that she, too, had made a choice. She'd chosen to accept. It meant more to him than he'd thought it could and he felt his chest constrict with emotion.

Clearing his throat with discomfort, Ben darted his eyes away to look anywhere but at her. A metal mask had concealed the expressions his face all too readily revealed for years. With nothing to hide behind now, a hint of panic vibrated beneath the surface of his skin. It made him lash out instinctively, latching onto another point of contention like a sullen child.

"At least Anakin's family came back for him," Ben muttered, almost wishing he'd left it unsaid even as his lips formed the accusation. He wasn't one to shy away from a fight once the opening salvo had been fired, though, so he looked back to her sharply as he charged onwards. "And at least it was _his_ choice to leave home. He wasn't sent away like a nuisance his mother no longer wanted to trouble with."

Ben knew he was twisting the story to suit his argument, but he needed to put some space between them, escape the gentle look in her eyes that he had no notion of what to do with. It had been a struggle to touch the ill-mended scar of his grandfather, but what he'd turned to now was infinitely more painful. This was the hard part. The discussion that he didn't want to have, but had spent the last twenty years fighting out in his head. Ben welcomed the strife as he couldn't when she'd first appeared, and if this was to be his only chance to make his mother see how she and Han had made a desolation of his life by evicting him from theirs, he was going to take it with a vengeance.

 _"Ben,"_ she pleaded, hands held out before her in a placating gesture so familiar that it instantly stoked the anger inside him. "I had responsibilities. I'd helped lead an entire generation into a war that tore the galaxy apart and I couldn't turn away when it came time to put it back together. They needed me and --"

" _ **I NEEDED YOU**_ ," he roared, eyes blazing with years of hurt and spite and want left unfulfilled. "Why did the rest of the galaxy come before me? Why didn't _I_ matter?"

All the memories of forgotten promises raced through Ben's mind and he dragged her into their despondent flow, feeling her flinch at the anguish they were steeped in. Every lonely day he'd been left in the care of droids. Nights spent sweat-soaked and terrified only to be told that it was 'just another nightmare.' And evenings of watching through the banisters as one parent dashed off to some political dinner and the other failed to keep his promise that he'd be back soon. Each of the short holo-messages that arrived at the training temple that always conveyed their regrets at being unable to visit, but 'knowing he'd understand.' It built and built, one resentment on top of another until he could barely breathe for the weight constricting his chest.

Ben seethed at the shattered look on her face as he set them both free of the onslaught. What right did she have to play the victim, when it had been she and his father who'd inflicted so much pain? They were his parents. They were supposed to have loved and protected him, believed in him, no matter what. Instead, they'd shrunk from his cries for help, the pleas to just be held and reassured it would be all right. He remembered the cold dagger twisting in his stomach as he'd stood, small ear pressed to a closed door, listening to his parents argue over their troubled son. Ben had heard the venom of accusation behind their voices, but it had been the fear that hurt the most. Fear of him. Then had come the awkward conversations with the parents of the politicians' children he'd been lumped in with, efforts to explain away the volatile outbursts that resulted in smashed toys and tears. His father had left, staying away for longer stretches every time he walked out the door, smile becoming ever more strained.

Some people spoke of their childhoods as though they'd been golden years, but for him, he had nothing but the imagined ashes of what it should have been.

And here she was, looking up at him with so much hurt, stirring the deep well of self-loathing Ben carried with him all over again. His mind strained with his internal screams as he raged that _it wasn't his fault._ The tempest inside grew far wilder and more treacherous than the one weeping down upon his head. Lungs burning as he drowned in it, he almost missed her reply.

"Of course you matter! You're my son," she said brokenly. Insubstantial tears traced their way down her translucent cheeks, choking her words. "You always did."

In exchange for what he'd shown her, she now pulled him into her mind and a lifetime of self-recrimination and regret poured out to him, all tempered by the impossible hope she felt now by finally seeing him for the first time since he was a child. She carried the image of a small boy, all ears and elbows and a nose that made the other children bully him over, but that she couldn't stop kissing. In spite of the pain he was causing her, Ben felt her amazement at the man he'd grown into, both physically and in the miracle rendered by Rey's hand. _So tall, so strong. And his Light! Oh Han, he's magnificent. Our son._ He heard her thoughts, left completely open to him, and they left his hands trembling.

Seeing the gentling of his expression seemed to ease her anxiety and his mother took a calming breath, smoothing her palms along the fabric of her robe as though preparing for a speech. The most important speech she would ever give, composed over the years with ever-growing heartache and a desperate wish that she'd one day be able to give it.

"I know I failed you. I know that I-- that we made you feel unloved," she spoke with more poise now, though her voice still shook slightly, unable to conceal the emotion behind it. "But you _were_ loved, Ben. You were _so very loved._ " Her voice hitched, but she wouldn't stop now that the feelings she'd borne in the cage of her heart for so long were set free. "We made mistakes. We lost ourselves, got caught up in our own goals and ambitions, and we committed the unforgivable by letting you get caught in the middle of it. And yes, we allowed ourselves to fear when we should have fought for you. Despite it all, though, know that it never altered how much we love you. If you believe anything I say, let it be that."

Just as Rey's confession had drawn the fire from his anger, his mother's declaration stole the momentum of Ben's growing rage. Faced with her like this, seeing the strong figure he'd grown up believing would never bend breaking before his eyes, he found he could do nothing but accept it as truth.

Ben nodded in acquiescence, giving up the fight at last. It left him feeling empty, hollowed out. He'd thought nervously that perhaps the Jedi had failed in exorcising Kylo Ren, after all, feeling that familiar fury return so readily and with such vigor. It made him face another truth, one that nobody had ever been willing to acknowledge over the course of his years, not even he to himself.

The hurt and the anger hadn't belonged to Kylo Ren because 'Kylo Ren' had been their product. They were Ben Solo's. They clung to his soul, even now, with the desperate strength of a little boy holding onto a pantleg as the one he longed to keep by his side walked away. They always would, he admitted. Even if he lived a thousand years, he'd still carry the invisible scars and endure the ache of them. But endure them he would, now. He'd been given a reason to, thinking of the warm hand that had lain across his stomach.

Ben was lost in his thoughts, but startled back to awareness at hearing them given voice.

"You don't just let go and move on. The heart doesn't work that way." His mother's understanding stunned him and he could only stare, rain water and salty sea spray tricking down his face. "But like all wounds, you can heal. Yes, there will be scars, but even they will fade with time." She dared to reach out a hand then, stroking the air above the cheek that had once been bisected by just such a mark. Her sad voice became firmer, growing with something he thought might be hope. "And maybe, you'll have someone beside you who makes bearing the weight of those memories easier."

_Rey._

It always came back to her. Ben closed his eyes tightly, attempting to block out the sight of her turning to leave him behind, the downpour slowly obscuring her from sight. It had happened so many times, though, that her receding form seemed to be etched on the walls of his mind. _Those damn buns…_

"For what it's worth, I like her."

His eyes shot up to meet a face filled with mirth. Trapped by her gaze, her expression suggested she saw far more than he was comfortable with. To his horror, Ben felt the outrageous sensation of warmth flooding his face. He hadn't blushed since he was a teenager and realizing that he was doing so now made Ben reconsider the decision not to throw himself into the water below. His mother's delighted laugh doubled his mortification and he let his eyes stray to the edge of the metal strut with a perverse longing.

"Oh no you don't," she managed to get out around her chuckle, putting an end to his humiliated deliberations. All traces of her tears were gone, replaced by the joy-carved crinkles that flared out from the corners of her eyes like beams of light. Mercifully, she seemed to decide not to spend the last conversation she'd get to have with her son driving him into a sulk, as entertaining as it clearly was. She made a visible effort to rein in her amusement before turning serious, once again.

"Truly, though. Rey is a wonderful young woman. In her time with the Resistance and as my pupil, I found in her a rare grace. The sort that is all the more precious because such kindness of spirit was never shown to her. She has so much in her heart to give." His mother paused, giving him a significant look. "And to be given."

"Yes," Ben responded faintly, but with no less conviction. Rey was all those things and more, he knew. Her Light had enchanted him from the first moment he'd seen her. His reply failed to satisfy, though, and he was treated to another irritated maternal huff.

"I know that look, Ben. You're every bit as transparent as your father was, so stop trying to hide it." He flinched at the mention of Han now that the nerves had been rubbed raw, but didn't interrupt. Her eyes softened with empathy as she continued.

"You love her."

It wasn't a question, but it was owed an answer.

"I do."

Feeling far too visible, unbound, and bare, he mastered his fear and bowed to the part of the truth that had nothing to do with destiny, ambitions of galactic rule, or even the ties that bound one soul to another through the Force. The sentiment had grown within him over time alongside a vulnerable hope that wished for nothing more than that it be returned in kind. The confession, now that it finally came, lifted a crushing weight from his shoulders. He stood taller, straighter. Ben had never fought how he felt about Rey, though out of despair over her repeated rejections he had concealed it away deep inside where he could pretend not to acknowledge it. His prevarications made it no less real, however.

His mother smiled up into his face, again. Now that the wall between them had been breached she couldn't seem to stop. He found he didn't mind.

"So, what are you waiting for?" Her hands came up to rest on her hips and her brows lifted expectantly as she looked him over. "The woman you love needs you, Ben Solo. Go and fight for her."

 _Leia Organa hath spoken,_ Ben thought with an unaccustomed tilt of his lips. There it was, again. When it came to fighting for what you loved, it really was just that simple for her. Perhaps she hadn't always managed it herself, but he knew she believed it all the same. Meeting her eyes and the challenge in them, he let it be enough for him, too.

His almost-smile creased into a slight frown as his thoughts turned inward, considering the immediate problem before him. The strain on their Bond told Ben that Rey had flown far from Kef Bir, putting as much distance between them as she reasonably could without killing his TIE's hyperdrive. She seemed to be stationary, which reassured him that she'd landed somewhere and wasn't drawing even further away as he became acutely aware of just how long he'd been standing here on this strut in the rain. The steady thrum of the Force stretching between them didn't come from the direction of Exegol, to his relief, knowing it would be all but impossible for him to reach her in time. Ben hoped she was safe, though he believed he'd feel it if she were endangered, even with her trying to block him out. Her emotions were growing more raw, more chaotic even than his own had been over the last year. It allowed hints of what she was feeling to escape through to him. He sighed, knowing that he'd been the one to push her to this point. Bent on turning her, he'd done it intentionally, seeking to drive her into facing what was between them and submit to it -- to him. Now, sensing her confusion and distress, he felt only shame.

Ben shook himself. He had no time for regrets right now. Whatever she was feeling and wherever she'd fled to for the moment, she'd inevitably be drawn to the Unknown Regions to face her grandfather. There was no doubt in his mind she'd stand to face the Dark. He knew her like he knew the ebb and flow of the Force around him or the facets and deep crack of his kyber crystal, nestled at the heart of his lightsaber.

Thinking of it made him look down at the weapon still held in his tight grip. He'd used it to slaughter so many, to establish a name for himself that was synonymous with the fear the blade invoked when ignited. As Snoke's apprentice, he had trained his mind to regard the suffering he caused with indifference, taking the Dark energies of pain and death into himself to fuel his growing power. Now, the man who had hidden behind that hateful mask for years imagined he could hear the countless voices that had been cut away by the wrathful blade crying out in terror and condemnation. To his discomfort, Ben realized that they failed to move him as they should, but true horror lanced through his chest at the thought of one he'd wielded his saber against in anger. He shuddered with the remembrance of his hand raising it against Rey mere hours ago with murderous intent.

Suddenly, snap decision made, he turned on his heel and drew his arm back to throw the tool of his sin into the sea. This was where evil things came to die. Let it be buried in this graveyard of the unworthy alongside an emperor's ambitions and the shade of Kylo Ren.

"I wouldn't," his mother chided, unexpectedly. Arm still cocked, Ben looked back at her in surprise. She shook her head, letting out a sigh of amused impatience for that instinct to act before thinking things through that ran strong in the Solo men. He watched one of her eyebrows quirk up sarcastically as she nodded pointedly at the saber. "I think you're going to need it."

Bristling a bit at her tone, he nonetheless lowered his arm. He couldn't quite believe his mother had stopped him from ridding himself of the blade that had slain his father. Ben had poured so much of his wounded spirit into the kyber to bleed it red that the crystal had cracked from the sheer force of the storm inside him. It represented so much of what had gone wrong between them, he and his parents. Like Rey, though, his mother seemed more than capable of surprising him at every turn.

"Symbols are nice," she quipped, effortlessly plucking the thoughts from his head. "But I don't think Palpatine will much care what color the lightsaber you run him through with is."

Ben shot her an annoyed look, the humor at his expense rubbing him the wrong way, as it always had. It was hard to argue with the logic behind it, though. Rey would need him at her side for the battle ahead. He was more than capable of fighting bare-handed, the Force both his blade and shield, but it was beyond foolish to toss aside a weapon that could be used to defend her. And, he thought, perhaps it was right that the blade Kylo Ren had committed so many atrocities with should now be used to achieve some small measure of Ben Solo's atonement. Perhaps even the crystal that had once glimmered with pure blue Light echoed his desire to redeem itself, as well. That in mind, he clipped the saber to his belt where it belonged, accepting both what it had once represented and what it could come to mean.

He looked back up at his mother and saw that the teasing twinkle had slipped away and the soft smile she now looked on him with was filled, instead, with pride. Swallowing thickly, Ben doubted he deserved it. He still felt stripped bare from the battering his spirit had been through this day. Looking down at himself, standing in torn clothing that dripped from the lashings of both sea and sky, he felt utterly inadequate.

"You have everything you need."

They were the words he needed to hear, but her voice sounded faint and as Ben raised his eyes to meet hers he noticed with a lurch in his stomach that the light surrounding her had dimmed, leaving her more insubstantial than before. She was fading, leaving this plane behind. _Leaving me, again._ Though he couldn't help the stab of hurt that echoed down through the years, he managed a surge remorse for begrudging her this final leave-taking.

Feeling her in his mind, he knew she sensed the shift in him. Her look was filled with the gratitude of a penitent given absolution. In a way, Ben supposed, that's just what had passed between them.

"You know what you have to do," she murmured, taking his breath away at the absolute faith that rang in her voice. He felt his eyes burn, but refused to allow himself to break. Fighting to master himself, he chose to seek a small portion of peace in return, whether he deserved it or not.

"Mom," he began, but stopped. There was so much he had to say to her, deep emotions pent up for so long. But now, there was no time left for all of it. Knowing he was losing his chance, he gave in to the fervent desire to have the one hole in his soul he couldn’t bear allayed by the only one left who was able to provide him some relief from the torment of it.

"Tell Dad--," Ben still hesitated as her form receded further. His throat burned to release the words, but even now he just couldn't let them out.

The soft touch of her mind embracing his allowed her to hear them all the same.

She was little more than mist now, but her smile shone with the radiant beauty that had entranced him as a boy. She reached up, holding her ghostly hand beside his face as though cupping his cheek. "He knows, Ben. We both do."

As she passed fully into the eternal embrace of the Force, eyes so like his own never strayed from his face, the overwhelming love in them an affectionate caress. Ben's lips moved in a silent wish to send along with her. He hoped they'd be happy, she and his father, now that they were reunited in a place beyond pain or fear.

Then, as if from beyond the other side of the universe, her last words reached out and settled tenderly in his soul with the warmth of a kiss goodnight.

_**My little angel.** _

The tears finally fell at the faint sound of the endearment, the memory of it bringing back those of gentle fingers that had stroked through his hair as he fell asleep and arms that held him close to chase away the nightmares. Ben sobbed in earnest for the first time in a long time, but though he bent over with the grief of all that was lost, he felt lighter with each drop of heartache that fell.

She was gone and he found it in himself to let her go.

_**No one is ever really gone.** _

Head jerking up in surprise, Ben looked around in bemusement, thinking he'd heard the husky words bearing a devastating grief whispered through the pounding of the rain. His Force-heightened senses found no trace of anyone close enough to have uttered them, however. Oddly, he drew some small comfort from them.

With a deep, if shaky breath, he set his resolve and turned to look up at the colossus tearing jagged claws across the sky. His eyes scoured the durasteel surface, searching the rusted-out husk for anything that resembled a hangar bay. He'd heard Rey take off in his TIE Whisper and he rather doubted her Resistance friends would be amenable to giving him a lift without first locking him in the brig, so he had to come up with an alternative. After a few minutes, he spotted a likely opening far off to the left of the strut he stood on and wasted no time in making for it.

His mother was right. Ben knew what he had to do, and so long as the Light Rey had reignited within him found its mirror wherever she was, he had the strength to do it.

***

Blood dripped from his lip and his head felt like it was about to explode from the pain, but he refused to let his wounds distract him from his purpose. His thoughts reached out for her, determined to let her know that she wasn't alone.

Whether it was the intervention of the Force or his own desperation leading him to find some purchase on the power of their Bond, Ben felt the sudden pull that drew him beyond his physical surroundings. The sound of heavy footsteps circling downed prey faded and the very air seemed to still. His immediate danger as the Knights loomed around him fell away and the only thing that mattered appeared before him. She glowed with that ethereal Light that he would not ever allow to be dimmed.

_**Rey. I'm here.** _

Their eyes met as they had so many times and it felt like coming home.

The eerie glow of the deep fissures pitted throughout the chamber lit her face as fear-scored lines smoothed away, but then her expression froze with indecision. She looked as though she was torn between one emotion and another, afraid the one she longed to allow herself to feel would be the wrong one, once again. He would not disappoint her, not now. Putting all the power of his chaos into their connection, he willed it to transform and ground itself in the purpose he'd found in the renewal of the life she'd gifted to him. Ben dropped the last of his barriers before her and instead of Darkness and fury, fierce and unreserved love traced a path of pure Light along the tendrils of fate that tied his heart to hers.

Her mouth opened slightly at the vow his eyes made to her across the Bond. He felt her begin to let herself believe. To hope. Holding her gaze, he let what strength he had left flow through to enfold her.

_**You're not alone, sweetheart.** _

Her breast rose in a sigh. Relief and awe echoed across to him, but it was the reciprocation of his admission -- his promise -- shining from her that filled him with courage and certainty despite his beaten body. Whatever was to come, whatever they'd face before the Dark throne, the last of his fear slipped away as he heard her voice reach out to embrace him in return. He knew without the slightest doubt that no matter how far he'd once fallen, beside this woman he would only rise.

_**Ben.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I can't believe I actually posted this for everyone to read. Who'd have thought? Anyway, here are some BTS snippets for those of you who stuck with me until the end…
> 
> As you may have guessed, I'd really wanted for Ben and Leia to finally meet and have a heart-to-heart. Obviously, TROS could never have provided that, since we lost the extraordinary Carrie Fisher before it could be made a reality. I'll always wonder what that scene would have been, had she lived to film it, but I hope I did her some credit with this. There's a lot of pain and resentment for his mother in Ben, Kylo or no Kylo, and I never imagined that those wounded emotions would simply disappear even when he was redeemed. I also couldn't see how one could fall to the Dark Side and leave it behind entirely even when turning back to the Light. I wanted to tackle both these issues and weave them together in a way that these two characters could address what it means for the reborn Ben Solo. I also wanted to lighten things up a bit at the end so that they could part on a happier note, so I brought out the feisty Princess's snarkier side. C'mon, we all know Leia would have had great fun teasing her son over his crush!
> 
> While I'd wanted to give Leia her big reunion with Ben, there were two men I still wanted to be sure got their respective moments in my retelling:
> 
> Leia's "He knows, Ben" is a nod to Han's "I know" that is said in TROS, evoking the expression of love that has such a beautiful meaning in this family. I really do love that father-son conversation and everything that both Harrison Ford and Adam Driver brought to it. If anything in the film is perfect, it's that scene. Though I utterly demolished it in this fic, I'd wanted to be sure to include the most emotionally resonant moment relatively intact, so I had Leia deliver it on Han's behalf.
> 
> And yes, Luke makes a secret guest appearance, here. He is the one who whispers that wonderful line of his, "No one is ever really gone." At the end of TLJ, we'd been given the hint that Luke would appear to Ben as the story moved forward, but we never saw it. I'd anticipated that Ben's uncle would be something of a guiding influence, slowly helping him resolve his inner conflict enough to turn back to Rey, who would help him cross the finish line. Not having an opportunity for that in this story, I nonetheless wanted Luke to have a meaningful moment with his nephew, bringing the three broken relationships from Ben's childhood full-circle. I like to think that the man who'd held his father as he'd died would have reached out to offer some comfort to a son who'd just lost his mother.
> 
> Re: What do the song lyrics mean? Breaking Benjamin's "Angels Fall" is about perseverance and finding the strength to stand and live on despite everything. What could be more fitting for Ben Solo?
> 
> And lastly, you may be wondering about one particular little change that I made -- *cough* he keeps his lightsaber *cough* -- and why I bothered with it when all I left off with was a brief scene from Ben's reunion with Rey that doesn't deviate from what we saw on-screen. Well. Never fear, dearies. I've gone and written a third part for this story. I'm not including it as an official chapter, but will post it as its own story, connected to this one as a "sequel." It's more of an epilogue, I suppose, but I wanted to maintain the original goal of this story, which was specifically to get inside Ben's head during that LONG period of time he was left standing in the rain, off-camera. 
> 
> Poor guy. I hope there was a towel in the miraculously functional TIE he managed to find.
> 
> Thank you for spending some time with my rambling Reylo brain and this story that it insisted on dreaming up. If you found some joy in it, or just want to know why that lightsaber didn't end up in the sea of Kef Bir, please be sure to pop by again for the epilogue-ish addition that's soon to come. 
> 
> Much love & may the Force be with you, always. ♥


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